


i took you by the hand and we stood tall

by tomorrows



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ???? - Freeform, M/M, first family! au, jay runs for president and anne is her vp, politics! au, they're both only children yaaaaaayyyy, totallyandshamelesslyinspiredbyobamaandbiden! au, um, washington! au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrows/pseuds/tomorrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am a national treasure,” Louis flips his hair dramatically, “Practically America’s sweetheart.”</p><p>Harry says nothing then, just watches him with soft, hazy eyes, and Louis feels the silliness in the air die out. It gets quiet then, between them, and Louis clears his throat, looking down to his lap where his thumbs are fighting with each other.</p><p>“You are though, you know,” Harry whispers quietly, “A sweetheart, that is. America’s sweetheart.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i took you by the hand and we stood tall

**Author's Note:**

> update: hi you can follow me on tumblr now :) @ tornorrows.tumblr.com
> 
> oops, totally fictional, sorrys
> 
> title from mumford's after the storm (srsly what more do you need lbr)

            Louis’ favorite spot in all of D.C. is the Lincoln Memorial. Every day – when they’re home (it still feels weird calling Washington home, he doubts it’ll ever take the place of Chicago in his heart, but he’s warmed up to the city much faster than he’d ever expected) that is – he watches the sun set on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Normally he’s got Paul beside him and a few guys from the Secret Service hidden in plain sight. By now he knows Liam’s the one in the red Phillies cap, Zayn’s the hobo in the fedora, and Niall’s the arthritis-ridden grandma with the silver cane. But he’s grown to not mind it, for the most part.

            He remembers when it all first started, a few years back when his mom decided _you know what? this country needs a woman in the White House_ and his life turned upside down. At the time he was fresh meat in a new high school, a 9th grader with horrible hair that was always in his eyes and a secret he had yet to even tell his mom. One minute he was in science class doodling stick figures on his arm and the next their home, their clothes, and their entire life was being ‘remodeled.' They had a team now; stylists, publicists, speech coaches, old ladies with bad German accents that drilled etiquette into Louis' head until he was mumbling _no elbows on the table_ in his sleep.

            His mom took him out of public school then – which was already a big deal to begin with because no one in Congress has their child in public school, much less a Senator from Chicago – and he started being homeschooled. For Louis, what he’d endured of high school was complete shit so far. He was aware of the names people called him and the looks the guys on the football team threw at him (look is an understatement; they were glares; daggers; warnings). But that didn’t make it any easier because for fuck’s sake, his mom was running for President of the United States of America and she had a son in the closet. He resented her for a while, for being so selfish and in-over-her-head, because America wasn’t going to elect a woman into the White House and America wasn’t going to accept a gay son in the White House (when they found out – not _if_ , but _when_ , because Louis knew that was bound to happen) and they were a train wreck waiting to happen. He didn’t want the entire country to know that he liked boys; he hadn’t even told his own _mother_ yet, and he hated her for unknowingly forcing him to come out when he wasn’t ready, when he hated himself enough already.

            The country found out during the Democratic primaries (his mother’s opponent a Congressman from Florida) and Louis spent a whole week crying on his bed, in the shower, and in the dark corners of his closet. He didn’t speak to anyone, not his mom or stepdad or his publicist. Apparently the Florida Congressman’s team had gone back to Louis’ high school and the assholes from the football team were still assholes, but this time they were assholes that spoke, rather than just glaring. It took a week of tears and isolation for him to end up in the hospital from dehydration and then, for the first time in months, his mother asked him if he wanted her to drop out of the race.

           _“Say the word, baby, and I’ll do it, I swear. We can get rid of the team and the cameras and I’ll never put you through this again, baby, I promise. Just tell me you don’t want this anymore and we’ll go home.”_

            And it was then that Louis decided _fuck the football team,_ fuck the name-calling, and fuck any part of America that wasn’t ready for his family to be in the White House. Finally, he was sick and tired of being some hopeless victim hidden in the closet, ashamed of who he was. He had nothing to feel guilty for; liking boys didn’t make him a horrible person, but being ashamed of himself would.

            So he told his mother **_no_** _,_ _we’re gonna do this, mom, and we’re gonna be in the White House in January, so fuck them_ and she laughed then, the first genuine laugh Louis had heard in over a year, and everything felt like it was going to be okay.

~

            When his mom wins the Democratic nomination for President, Louis is nearing the end of his sophomore year and his mom is meeting possible VP candidates. There’s the Mayor of Philadelphia (“We see eye-to-eye on so much, Louis”), the ex-Senator from Iowa (“Louis, Iowa is such an important state to win, he’s like a saint to the folks there”), and the most controversial pick of them all, the Congresswoman from Delaware (“I really want you to meet her Louis, I think you’ll understand why”).

            He meets the Mayor and the ex-Senator and they’re both nice people, very liberal with strong support back home, but nothing stands out about them. His mother is a mild-liberal with a Harvard education and a background in Constitutional law and these guys just don’t light the same fire she does. When his mother speaks, people turn their attention to her and they _listen,_ not necessarily because they have to, but because they find themselves unable to resist. She is Mount Everest and these guys are the sand dunes on the beaches of California.

            It’s a Saturday in April when Louis, his mom, stepdad, and campaign team fly to Delaware to meet the Congresswoman for the first time as a whole. Throughout the drive from the airport to the house, Louis can feel everyone’s eyes on him almost pleadingly, because they know a bad word from him and his mother will jump, and they all just really, desperately, want this Congresswoman Cox to be the one.

            They step out of the black Range Rovers and into suburban Delaware. The home in front of them is big with long windows and a large American flag stood proudly in the front yard. They seem to have a huge lawn and Louis thinks the backyard probably stretches for miles. _The suburbs_ , he snickers to himself. The houses in this neighborhood are all spread far apart and in the distance Louis can see a large lake and field worthy of some fancy game of golf.

            “Jay!” Louis hears a bright voice shout from the front of the house and before he knows it, his mom is screaming “Anne!” and they’re in each others’ arms, giggling and swaying left and right from being glued to each other so tightly.

            For a second Louis can’t help but feel a surge of anger pulse through his veins because his mother never told him she was this close to Congresswoman Cox. He never told him they were on a first-name basis and that they _giggled_ with each other. He can only remember one other instance he felt so out of the loop since this journey began and all that Louis can think of is _hospital_ and _dehydration_ and _football players_.

            “Come in, come in everyone, Robin’s got a barbecue going out back!”

Louis feels the palm of one of their publicist’s on his shoulder, ushering him into the house. He’s behind everyone at this point, lost in both the crowd and the excitement. All of sudden, he’s dreading the weekend they're spending in Delaware and he’s dreading this barbecue and he’s dreading this whole entire fucking campaign that just never seems to fucking end.

            “And this is Louis, my son,” He hears his mother introduce him when he reaches the front step.

Louis looks up and the Congresswoman is standing before him, her eyes big and bright and eager. She doesn’t have that look in her eyes – the one that the Mayor and ex-Senator had, as if they were begging him to please, please, like him – but rather, one of genuine happiness, like she’s been dying to meet Louis for a really long time.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Louis, we’ve been looking forward to this for a really long time, your mom and I.”

And there it is again, that feeling of betrayal.

“Um, thanks,” Louis mumbles (in the back of his head he can remember the German woman who always hissed, _no mumbling, Louis, you are an adult now_ ), “It’s, um, really nice to be in Delaware.”

           Anne laughs at that, a genuine one nonetheless, and leads Louis through the house and into the backyard. He watches his mother in front of him as she chatters uselessly with Anne. Louis tries to focus on what they’re saying but they talk so fast and so excitedly, Louis can barely understand it, much less, get a word in.

           Just as he’d expected, the backyard is huge, really does go on for miles until it reaches the lake in the back, and Louis thinks he’d definitely prefer to jump in that lake and never come up than endure this weekend with the Cox family.

           Louis watches as his family and their team mix and mingle with Anne’s family and a few people from her team. He can barely tell anyone apart anymore; where Anne’s family starts and where it ends, where his mom’s team starts and where it ends. It goes on forever and Louis watches it all happen, a circle of adults hugging and kissing and joking about. He feels so pathetic and left out, just wants to go back to his bedroom in Chicago and hide because he can’t remember the last time he actually enjoyed a social gathering, much less the last time he attended a social gathering that wasn’t for his mom.

           “Hi, you’re Louis, right?”

Louis turns to his right where he hears a soft voice whisper quietly, almost nervously. Beside him stands a boy with unruly brown hair and bright green eyes, blown wide from nerves, it seems. He’s biting his lip and it looks like he’s trying to hide a smile and Louis thinks, for a second, that he’s probably looking into the sun.

            “Um, yeah, Louis. I’m Louis.” And God, that etiquette teacher was worth fuck all.

“I’m Harry. Anne’s son.”

For the first time all day, the knot in Louis’ stomach untangles and he feels himself smiling against his will at this cherub boy in front of him. He shakes Harry’s hand and notices that Harry, too, has given up trying to hide his smile.

“I didn’t know the Congresswoman had a son, actually,” Louis says as he lets go of Harry’s hand. As soon as he does so, he can feel his fingers twitch at the lack of warmth.

Louis notices Harry shuffle his feet when the boy looks down nervously, _“Surprise?”_

           Louis’ heart swells at the sight and he wants so desperately to hold Harry’s hand. Neither of the boys is aware of it then, but a few feet away their mothers are standing together and watching with smiles on their faces.

“They’ll be good together, won’t they?” Anne whispers.

“They will. Lou’s really needed this for a long time,” Jay sighs, turning to her, “Harry’s a great kid, Anne.”

“He’s been dying to meet Louis for months now, you know.”

Jay chuckles, “He’s gonna have Louis wrapped around his finger in no time.”

“Give ‘em two weeks and we’ll be hearing wedding bells.”

“Guess we’ll be one big, happy family in the White House then, huh?”

~

            Harry doesn’t leave Louis’ side throughout the entire barbecue and Louis is grateful for that. He finds out that Harry, too, is an only child, has a stepdad named Robin, and is in his sophomore year in high school, just like Louis. Harry’s in some fancy private school, though, and still, Louis can barely believe the similarities they share. They don’t talk about the elephant in the room, or rather, the multiple elephants. The Presidential race, Louis’ sexual orientation, or the fact that they’ve both finally noticed that their mother’s have been watching them all evening. For a while, that is.

            “Does your mom think I’m going to kill you or something?” Harry asks, his eyes still on Louis while they sit by the bonfire.

“If that’s the case, then your mom probably thinks I’ve been plotting your death since I walked in.” Louis grins and Harry returns it easily, the same way he has all day.

“Think she’s probably just trying to convince your mom into letting her adopt you.”

“I am a national treasure,” Louis flips his hair dramatically, “Practically America’s sweetheart.”

Harry says nothing then, just watches him with soft, hazy eyes, and Louis feels the silliness in the air die out. It gets quiet then, between them, and Louis clears his throat, looking down to his lap where his thumbs are fighting with each other.

            “You are though, you know,” Harry whispers quietly, “A sweetheart, that is. America’s sweetheart.”

Louis chuckles darkly, ignoring the fluttering in his chest, “Yeah, well, was a shitty journey to get that title, wasn’t it?”

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?”

Louis looks up at Harry then and the boy’s green eyes are so wide and so deep and so magnetic, Louis can’t get himself to look away. He wants to, so desperately, but he can’t.

“You’re here now, _sweetheart_ ,” Harry whispers so softly that Louis has to lean in to hear it and when he does so, Harry places his hand on Louis' and twines their fingers together. Louis holds on.

~

            Louis and Harry spend the rest of the weekend glued together. They become LouisandHarry so quickly and so easily that no one bothers questioning it. Louis sleeps in Harry’s room during their stay and falls asleep to the quiet _inhale, exhale,_ of Harry’s breath just a few feet away. There’d been a guest room designated for him, but after the first night of their stay (when Louis had snuck out of his room and into Harry’s), Anne says nothing, just puts an air mattress by Harry’s bed and smiles knowingly at him during breakfast.

            The campaign teams only stay for the barbecue on the first night and the rest of the weekend is saved for the families alone so Louis and Harry use the privacy to their advantage. They swim in the lake – once, naked in the middle of the night (only to be caught sneaking back in by Robin, who said nothing, just threw towels at them and started a fire in the livingroom where LouisandHarry sat giggling and wrestling and talking until sunrise) – and and eat breakfast late in the afternoon. They tag-team with their moms and face each other in scramble and for just that one weekend it doesn’t feel like their moms are trying to take over Washington, D.C.

~

           They fly back to Chicago on Sunday night after sunset. Anne and Harry drive with them to the airport. Louis and Harry sit in the back of one of the Range Rovers, thighs pressed together and pinkies tangled on their lap. They both face away from each other, looking out the dark windows of the car, and trying to ignore the way the knots in their stomachs tighten with each minute that passes.

            They don’t say anything the whole car ride, just listen to their moms chatter nonsensically, and it isn’t until they’re inside the airport and headed for the sign that reads **DEPARTURES** that Louis turns to Harry (who kept his warm palm on the small of Louis’ back the whole time) and smiles. Harry’s got his eyes on the ground, shuffling his feet the same way he did when Louis had first met him, so Louis takes a step closer. He waits for Harry to notice Louis’ shoes in his vision and when Harry looks up, Louis hates that he can see Harry’s eyes watering.

           “Hey,” Louis whispers, pressing himself closer to Harry, “None of that, okay, no crying.”

He cups Harry’s face and presses their foreheads together. Harry’s hands move hesitantly to tighten around the fabric of Louis’ shirt and Louis exhales, a weight he wasn’t aware of slipping off of his shoulders.

“But m’gonna miss you so much,” Harry croaks.

Louis swallows past the lump in his throat and rubs his thumb against the soft contour of Harry’s jaw, “I’ll miss you too, Curly.”

Harry chuckles at that and it goes quiet between them.

            They hadn’t acknowledged this _thing_ between them all weekend. They hadn’t even set any barriers, really (mostly because neither of them had reached anything that even mildly resembled a barrier, personally) or talked about the future – or if there even was a future, actually.

           “This isn’t the end, you know,” Louis finds himself speaking up, “If your mom sent you in to swoop me off my feet and secure her VP nom, then you’ve done a pretty great job, Harry Styles.”

Harry tips his head back at that, barking a loud laugh and Louis can’t help but smile at that, moving to wrap him arms around Harry's neck and giggle.

           “I already put my number in your phone, by the way.”

“If it’s not under Curly Cox then I’m deleting it ASAP.”

“Can I redeem myself by telling you that your mom gave me your number and told me to save it as Loubear?”

Louis jumps back at that, gasping, absolutely horrified, “She did _not_!”

“She did,” Harry grins and pulls Louis back towards him, this time wrapping his arms Louis’ shoulders and just barely swaying their bodies together, “Told me you hate it so I had to.”

           Louis groans, hiding his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, “You’re both awful, the two of you. Absolutely horrible. I can’t wait til I’ve got Secret Service men to protect me from the two of you and your tomfoolery.”

“That’s a good word.”

“Thanks. I heard your mom say it at lunch.”

Harry giggles at that, nuzzling his cheek against the crown of Louis’ head.

“We’ll see each other again, yeah?” Harry whispers, his voice having gone quiet and hesitant once more.

“So often that you’ll be sick of me in a year’s time, I promise.”

Louis feels Harry’s arms tighten around his small frame when the boy mumbles a quiet, _“Not gonna happen.”_

            They’re pulled apart then when Louis’ parents announce that they better get going and the boys share one final bone-crushing embrace. Louis presses a sneaky kiss to Harry’s cheek and rushes away, shouting one final promise of _text you when I get home!_  and he misses the way Harry’s entire face goes red, all the way to the tips of his ears.

~

            When Jay chooses Anne for her Vice President, no one is surprised. Rather, there’s lots of jumping and squealing and _that means we get to see Harry again, yeah!?_ on Louis’ part. The boys endure the rest of sophomore year away from each other, made bearable only with the help of unlimited texting and late night video chatting. Harry aces his finals and Louis, well, Louis passes.

            When the summer comes around their mothers’ nation-wide campaign starts with a commencement speech at Harvard, where Louis and Harry reunite for the first time in almost two months, better known as _a lifetime and a half, mom!_ to Louis.

            The sit beside each other behind the graduates and pretend to listen while Jay speaks, eloquent as ever. Really, while everyone else dabs away the tear from their eyes and chuckle at a clever joke here and there, Louis and Harry draw lightly on each others’ thighs, no real design or pattern in mind. Their legs are pressed together and their heads lowered, leaning toward one another unconsciously. It’s quiet between them, a comfortable silence neither of them were aware they were okay with until now, but they cherish it regardless.

           Their families are here for dinner with a few people from the University and then Harry and his mom are to separate and head west to speak at a few places while Louis and his mom head south. They’ll meet up a few times later on, though (a schedule both Louis and Harry now know by heart. They’ve got the dates for Dover, Alexandria, Chicago, St. Louis, Tallahassee, Cheyenne, Minneapolis, and Lincoln in the calendars of their phones with ten exclamation marks each.)

(“They should change the pronunciation of St. Louis.”

“And why’s that, Haz?”

“’Cos then it’d be St. Louis, like your name. You’d have a whole city with your name.”

“Sounds like A Big Responsibility.”

“Na, you’ll be okay. I’ll help you reach your saintly status in no time.”

“Isn’t that a sin?”

“Ah, fuck it… No pun! No pun!”)

            That night at dinner with a handful of awfully prestigious people, Louis and Harry sit next to each other and eat off of one another’s plates. Louis can feel the daggers one of his publicists’ is throwing towards him and chooses to ignore it because beside him, Harry giggles every time he steals a steamed carrot off Louis’ plate and he thinks that’s more than worth it.

            When their teams separate after dessert, LouisandHarry hold onto each other behind their buses and the two of them try their best to slow down the beating of their hearts. It’s a desperate embrace, one that promises tomorrow, the next day, and the days after that, no matter the distance. It’s one that apologizes for the time they had apart and all the times they’ll have apart in the coming months. One that confesses _I’m so scared we’re going to lose_ and one that promises _we’re gonna make it_.

            When they pull apart reluctantly, Harry’s pressing his fingers to the corners of his eyes, embarrassed as always. “See you in Dover, yeah?”

“Dover,” Louis repeats, “Definitely, yeah. Think we can go back to that lake?”

“Maybe if we put some sleeping pills in Robin’s drink.”

“And then Alexandria, right?”

“It’s not raining the week we’re there, so we should go golfing. And I’ll finally get to see your home in Chicago.”

“I’ll show you all my favorite spots in the city. And then St. Louis.”

“St. _Louis_ , like you. I’ll get you a keychain and everything. And we can go swamp fishing in Tallahassee.”

“And try climbing a mountain in Cheyanne.”

“Check out that giant spoon in Minneapolis.”

“I’m not sure what there is in Lincoln, Nebraska, but we’ll have fun.”

“There’s nothing in Nebraska, Lou, you should know that already.”

            Louis barks a laugh at that and the two of them get tangled up in each others’ arms once more, pressing their giggles onto the others’ skin, a promise of better days.

            Louis presses his forehead to Harry’s and closes his eyes, sighing contently, “Dover then.”

“Dover.”

“Just 5 days, Haz,” and Louis can barely contain his smile.

Harry, however whines, _“So many days.”_

            Louis grins, pressing his smile to Harry’s temple, sneaking in a deep inhale of Harry’s scent and memorizing the way the skin at Harry’s temple is so thin and soft, delicate like the skin at his wrist.

“Dover,” he promises.

~

            The summer goes by in the blink of an eye. It’s the first time both Louis and Harry see so much of the country, some cities better than others. It’s a hot summer, one that has Louis in khaki shorts throughout months and Harry in thin, white Polos that have Louis squirming in his seat. They go to lots of museums together, attempt to (and fail miserably) climb a mountain, check out silly statues, refuse to eat anywhere but local diners, and go skinny dipping as soon as Robin turns his back.

            It’s a good summer, the best summer Louis' had in a long time, and before they know it summer fades into autumn and the two of them are starting school while campaigning across the country and the shorts are traded for dress pants, the Polos for sweater vests. (Harry hates them, glares at their stylists until Louis presses kisses to the soft space between his furrowed brows, because Louis thinks Harry looks very _cute_ and _suburban_ , and it reminds him of Delaware, where they began.)

            The weeks of the debates are the most nerve-wrecking, Louis thinks, because the Republican candidate, a Massachusetts ‘mild Conservative’ has had a few awfully good weeks of publicity (“I bet he demanded to get tetanus shots before he entered that soup kitchen,” Louis remembers hissing at the tv.) and Jay’s only just recently gotten over the stomach flu she’d caught in Denver.

            No one says it afterward, but they all know Jay bombs the debate. The Republican candidate walks all over her, doesn’t give her a moment to speak, and Jay lets him. Louis notices the color draining from his mother’s face while he sits in the crowd, nervously biting at his nails (he only stops when Harry pulls his hand away and clasps it tightly against his own to get the shaking to stop) (which it does). When it’s over, Louis exhales a deep breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding and when they get back to their hotel room, Louis pretends like he can’t hear the sound of his mother’s self-deprecating pessimism. Harry shares a room with him that night, because he knows Louis needs it, and lets Louis hide his face in his chest, refusing to let any tears escape.

            The next debate is between the Vice Presidential nominees and Anne saves them. She’s fast and excited, and covers their entire platform. Nothing slips by her and she gets a few laughs from the crowd easily. They love her, absolutely eat up everything she says, and the headlines that night read _Congresswoman Cox Saves The Democrats!_

The all celebrate that night in one of the hotel rooms, Louis and Harry sneaking glass after glass of lukewarm champagne until they’re both tipsy and giggly and warm. Robin escorts them into their room, a disapproving sigh going unnoticed against the overwhelmingly happy sparkle in his eyes.

            They sleep in the same bed again that night and Louis lets Harry kiss all every inch of his face over and over again until he’s clutching onto his belly with giggles, out of breath and warm all over.

“I really love you, Haz.”

Harry grins wide, the dimples in his cheeks popping out, as he gives Louis and Eskimo kiss, “Love you, too, Lou. So glad we’re together.”

            Louis freezes, wondering if Harry realizes what he’d just said. _Together_ , as in, in this current moment? Or _together_ , as in, a couple? Or _together_ , as in, on this journey with their mothers? _Together_ , he repeats in his head. He can’t help the flutter in his chest when he realizes how badly he’d like for it to be the second.

~

            Jay redeems herself at the final debate in Connecticut and Louis doesn’t need champagne this time to get himself giddy. He jumps on the hotel bed excitedly, repeating line after line of all the great things his mom had said a few hours back, and Harry watches by the loveseat, smiling fondly and privately.

            When Louis wears himself out, finally, he throws himself on the bed, eyes shining at the ceilings. He’s stretched out like a starfish, trying to catch his breath. The room gets quiet, but Louis can’t ignore the buzzing his veins and the ringing in his ears. A ringing that just barely covers the sound of Harry’s quiet whisper of, _“You’re so gorgeous, Lou.”_

            Louis pretends like he doesn’t hear it, the same way he always does. Harry does this so often; compliments Louis on his golden skin or soft hair or baby blue eyes. He tells him how much Louis’ smile looks like the sun on a spring day and how he loves the way Louis’ body curves and fits perfectly against his when they’re pressed together. Louis tries to ignore it, because he doesn’t understand how Harry can see him in a light that no one ever has, not even Louis himself. He blames on it Harry’s youthful innocence and naivety.

            “C’mhere, Haz,” Louis sighs, patting the space next to him on the bed.

Harry complies, crawling onto the bed and into Louis’ bubble, nuzzling his head against the crook of Louis’ neck. He hums happily and Louis turns to inhale the green apple scent of Harry’s hair.

           “Election’s in a few weeks, Lou,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ skin.

“I know, Haz,” Louis sighs, “I wish I wasn’t as nervous as I am.”

Louis can feel Harry’s smile against his skin when he speaks, “You shouldn’t after tonight.”

“Our moms are the greatest tag-team duo in American history.”

“They give Washington and Adams a run for their money.”

“We are _not_ having a history lesson again, Haz, stop it.”

Harry giggles again, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of Louis’ collarbone, “Think D.C. is ready for our families, Lou?”

“Don’t think they have much of a choice, if I’m honest.”

“I think I’m ready for D.C.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, and Louis notices that he’s finally opened his eyes again, “Think I’m ready for everyone to know.”

Louis freezes besides him, his hands unable to continue rubbing Harry’s arm. “Know what, Harry?”

            He can’t get himself to look at Harry anymore and he knows Harry can hear how fast his heart is beating his chest and he knows that Harry is scared shitless, that he may be ready for D.C. but he’s probably not ready for Louis. And he knows Harry needs him right now, needs Louis to tell him that it’s okay, he’ll be okay, they’re still okay.

            “Do I have to say it?” Harry voice is quiet, absolutely petrified.

“It’ll help if you do, Haz.”

He notices Harry squirm in his arm, the same way Louis does so himself when he reads an awful comment on Twitter in the morning, or when watches a degrading segment on gays when they’re still in bed. Louis tightens his arms around Harry and continues to rub his boy’s back.

           “I like boys.” And his voice is so soft, barely audible, “You specifically, Lou, I like you.”

            Louis hears the words, but it doesn’t sink it because Harry is a bright boy who has everyone wrapped around his finger. He’s beautiful and kind and honest, he works hard and he’s loyal to the core and he loves so earnestly and wholly, with his entire heart and soul and Louis doesn’t want to be the one to break it. He doesn’t want to be _the guy that ruined Harry Styles_ because Harry deserves better than him, deserves the whole world and then some.

           “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, Lou, I get it if you – ”

“No, no,” Louis interrupts him, “I do. I do like you.”

It’s a horrible confession he shouldn’t have said, that’s for sure. _God_ , he’s supposed to protect Harry, to keep him away from things as vicious and poisonous as Louis himself. Louis, who’ll ruin Harry if he gets the chance.

“Please don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” Harry begs him and Louis can feel his boy pulling away from him.

“Stop, Haz,” he pulls Harry back in, tighter than before, and envelopes him in his arms, “I love you, I do, and you know that. You know how much I love you and you know how much you mean to me. Don’t you dare ever think otherwise Harry, okay.”

            Harry is quiet then, takes his time understanding what Louis’ just told him and the depth of it all.

“But… Are you _in_ love with me?” Louis can tell by the way Harry asks it, he’s terrified of rejection, terrified of being shut down and shut out and the words _rejected rejected rejected_ are repeating his mind.

           “I think,” Louis pauses, “Think I fell in love with you in Delaware, Haz, before I even knew it.”

           Harry sits up at that and in seconds he got himself pressed against Louis, licking his way into Louis’ mouth and wrapping his whole body around his boy, begging for Louis to understand that he’s wanted this for so long, so desperately, from the first day he heard the news about a certain Presidential nominee having a beautiful son who happened to like other boys.

            “I cried when they outed you, Lou,” Harry confesses between kisses, “Cried even more when you ended up in the hospital. Felt like I loved you before I even knew you.”

Louis pulls away at that and looks into Harry’s eyes; green and wide and terrified.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Harry Styles, I swear to God.”

~

            The first Tuesday of November finds Louis and Harry in Chicago on Louis’ bed, the door locked and the shades pulled shut. The room is dark and Harry’s got some weird folk band humming quietly in the background and the two boys are facing each other on their sides, eyes focused on the shape of their palms which are pressed against each other. They don’t have to say anything and they don’t dare talk about what’ll happen to them in a few hours, when the results are in. Instead, they watch their hands move against each other, the way their fingers tangle loosely and easily, and focus on the way the soft exhale of their breaths that match evenly.

            “How did you do on that pre-calc test go the other day?” Louis asks, his voice so delicate and warm.

“Okay, I think. Nick says my grades’ve gone up but I don’t know, m’still having some trouble with derivatives and stuff.”

“You’re cute when you get all fussed over your math homework,” Louis grins, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead, “Like my own mini-Einstein. Got the hair for it and all.”

 _“Hey,”_ Harry drags the word out, offended “As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d like to think I’m at least a _little_ bit cuter than Einstein.”

“Meh,” Louis, faking nonchalance. He turns over so that his back is to Harry, “I dunno, maybe just the tiniest bit.”

“The tiniest bit!” Harry gasps, engulfing Louis is in his arms, wrapping his legs around Louis’, and shaking his boy’s smaller frame until Louis is giggling uncontrollably admitting _definitely cuter! definitely cuter! the cutest!_ out of breath.

It takes a while for their high to die down and when it does, their bodies lie aligned, chest to back, and their exhales soft and even. Louis moves his hand to entwine it with Harry’s and he places their linked hands against his chest, lets the thumping of his heartbeat reverberate against his palm.

            They lie like that quietly for so long that Harry’s CD starts playing on repeat for the fourth time and Louis gets so sick of it he finally drowns the noise of it out. He wishes right now that he could get lost in his head, the way he normally does, but it’s impossible. It’s blank up in his mind and all he can focus on is the warmth of Harry’s body.

            It isn’t until a few hours later that they hear screaming and yelling and a back to back popping sound that resembles champagne bottles being opened. Louis’ grip tightens around Harry’s hand and he feels himself freeze, his breath stopping.

Behind him Harry exhales a stupefied, “The White House, then?”

 _“Yeah,”_ Louis croaks, “D.C., I guess”

            Before Harry can reply, there’s a knocking on Louis' door and someone from the campaign team is running in and shouting at them to get dressed because _there’s an acceptance speech to be made, Jesus fucking Christ, guys, can you believe it!?_ And Louis can’t believe it, not yet at least, as he and Harry run on autopilot, changing into the suits they had pressed earlier that day. Louis finds himself smiling because of course he and Harry match; the two of them donning dark blue suits, Louis with a red and white striped tie, Harry in a red and white polka-dot bow tie. Harry notices the fond look in Louis’ eyes and smiles at him in the mirror.

“We’re pretty cute, aren’t we?”

Louis smiles wider, “Can only speak for myself, Einstein.”

 Harry jumps at him then and for the second time that night they get tangled up in each others’ arms, barking loud laughs and collapsing on the floor.

~

            That night when Jay speaks in front of a crowd of nearly a million at Chicago’s Grant Park, Louis and Harry hold hands for the first time in public. Neither Jay nor Anne cry then (mostly because they’d drained themselves of tears on the car ride over) but Louis, Harry, Robin and Dan do so (shamelessly) and when the articles come out about who wears the pants in the First Family, they all laugh (shamelessly, again).

~

            By the time Jay and Anne get sworn in, the country has mostly (and reluctantly) accepted the fact that their President and Vice President are twice-married women, both of whom have gay, teenage sons – who just happen to be dating. By now Louis has been on this rollercoaster for nearly two years and he’s used to, generally speaking. The headlines aren’t “breaking news” anymore and there are no more football players or sexist journalist degrading his mother on a weekly basis. Well, there are still some of those around, but considering her victory is one that’ll be highlighted in every history book for the rest of forever, they treat her much better now. Jay likes to think it’s because they’ve finally come to their sense. Louis likes to think it’s because his mother’s got the most intimidating cabinet backing her in Washington.

            Louis and Harry have just finished their junior year of high, a year they spent being home-schooled (while campaigning, mostly), and come their senior year they’re starting back up at some prestigious private school where all the politicians' kids go. Louis’ not looking forward to it because teenagers may be assholes, but private school teenagers are the absolute scum of the earth.

            Except for Harry, that is. Beautiful, bright, lovely Harry who’s grown so well into his body and whose voice has now deepened so much that Louis calls him even when they’re a few rooms away just to hear the sound of his voice. They're good together, the two of them, and the public kind of adores them. If Louis was America’s sweetheart two years ago, LouisandHarry are America’s sweetheart couple now. They try to keep what they have private, but sometimes Harry gets a sudden urge to kiss Louis when they’re out in public and sometimes, when they’ve gone all week without having seen each other, Louis will cling himself to Harry all throughout some fancy dinner, the two of them ignoring the wary glares of their publicists.

            They grow into this habit of meeting at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial every day (that they’re in D.C.) at sunset. At first, when they’d started it out of the blue during last days of spring, crowds would surround them and camera flashes would go on for hours, but now the meetings are public knowledge, something the whole country is used to and generally respects.

            Every day when the sun gets a little hazy and the air a little cooler, Louis will drive over to the steps with Paul and wait until Harry gets there with a small bag from Georgetown Cupcake in his hands. They sit right up front and wait for the sun to set behind the Washington monument, watching the colors of the Reflecting Pool change with the sky. Sometimes they talk about their day but most days they don’t. They lean against each other, Louis’ body aligned perfectly against Harry, who has his arms around Louis. A few flashes still go off now and then, but it’s all a subdued buzzing in the background now.

            Finally, it’s the night before their first day of school and senior year. Louis has been in D.C. all weekend but Harry had been off to Delaware, only just getting back into town after the sun had set. Louis is used to the distance by now, he understands it pretty well and he knows he can’t expect every sunset to be a shared one, but as he tosses and turns in bed that night all he can think about is how much he wishes Harry had been there today. Over the past few months they’ve grown absolutely codependent, but Louis thinks that was probably written in the stars for them.

            After an hour of hopelessly attempting to fall asleep, Louis unplugs his phone from its charger and sends his boy a quick text as he gets dressed.

_meet me @ our spot in 10 ? miss u alotsssss:(_

By the time Louis’ got Paul awake and sneaking him into one of the Range Rovers, his phone buzzes with a new text.

_been here for a while.. hurry!_

~

            When Louis and Paul get to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial it’s half past one in the morning. It’s dark outside, but Louis can faintly see, through the soft light of the city, the outline of Harry’s figure laid out in front of the Reflecting Pool. He pretends like he doesn’t see Liam, Niall, and Zayn hidden in plain sight, because they always pretend like don’t notice each other, and walks over to Harry. Harry doesn’t move until Louis’ rests his head on his makeshift hoodie-pillow and presses his body from shoulder to ankle against him.

            “How was Delaware?” Louis asks in the quiet of the night.

Harry turns to face him, the two of them barely separated by more than an inch.

“Not the same without you.”

“No skinny dipping, then?”

Harry grins at that, “Never without you,” and closes the space between them with an Eskimo kiss, his signature form of affection. (Probably, it’s the deepest, most significant expression of affection that Harry’s got, the one he holds closest to his heart, the most innocent one that no one gets to see, the one he only ever shares with Louis.)

            “I’m glad you’re back, Haz,” Louis confesses.

“Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe when you’re not with me,” Harry confesses back.

“Do you think we’ll be okay tomorrow?”

Louis’ voice gets quieter with the final whisper, almost nervous and scared. It’s something that rarely happens, something that Louis refuses to ever show. Louis knows he’s not brave (not like Harry) and he knows he’s weak (especially when he’s not with Harry).

           “Hey,” Harry shakes him out of his thoughts, resting his arm on the dip of Louis’ waist, “We’ll be okay. We’ve always been okay when we’re together.”

 _“Together.”_ Louis repeats the word like a mantra. “I’m glad we’re together.”

Harry holds onto him a fraction more tightly and whispers the words right back.

           “We’re a pretty great duo, you and I.”

“Might give our moms a run for their money.”

“Can I be the President, then? It’s only fair.”

“Whatever you want, babe, I’ll just be your trophy wife.”

“Think that position requires _some_  cooking technique.”

“Blasphemy. I make the best cereal in town. What more does that bottomless pit of a stomach of yours need!”

“Cereal’s not _real_ food, Lou.”

“It was that time I brought it for you in bed!”

“You brought a box of Corn Flakes and expired milk! That hardly counts!”

            They continue like that for what seems like forever, until the sun starts peaking through the dark fabric of the sky and the granite underneath them gets colder and Harry’s phone vibrates with a text from Robin.

_School starts in 3hrs! You two better not be skinny dipping again!  
_

**Author's Note:**

> i'm desperately sorry for any typos it's 2am what do you expect of me i will probably fix it all up in the morning thank you for reading i'm sorry
> 
> update: tornorrows.tumblr.com


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